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"Everyone has watched at least one episode of Little House on the Prairie, no matter how much they deny it," he said staunchly. "Melissa Sue Anderson was hot. And don't get me started on Ma." His gaze slid over her. "I wouldn't mind seeing you in one of those cute farm girl dresses with the little boots and stockings."
"There's something deeply twisted about you."
She chuckled as he grabbed at her knee and she scooched farther against the passenger seat to avoid him. Even as he teased her, though, she wasn't fooled. Something was up. He had something planned, but he wasn't in the mood to share, even when she probed. But he gave her a nice surge of arousal when he leveled a more direct gaze on her.
"Come here and stop hiding over there."
She moistened her lips and slid back to the center of the seat. He settled his palm on her leg, sliding up to her upper thigh and then turning his hand so he cupped her between her legs under her skirt, fingers playing over her labia like a violin and sending a quick little shudder through her. "You just sit like that for a while," he said conversationally. "Find us something on the radio while I drive."
"Sadist."
His eyes glinted, but he kept his hand there until she found a station he preferred. "You feel wet," he said. "I'd like to keep you that way all day, but..." He gave her a firm stroke that made her draw in a breath and put his hand back on her thigh. "That's just a reminder that things will happen when they should happen. All right?"
"Okay." She curled her hand over his. "I'm rethinking wanting you back to 100% again. You may drive me crazy. Crazier, that is."
He shot her a grin. "Sit back and enjoy the ride, love."
Elaine fed them a repast that would put a Thanksgiving dinner to shame. So much so that Julie was afraid they'd need to postpone sexual activity for a week unless she did a marathon jog from here to the state line. Since she abhorred all types of formal exercise, her serious contemplation of the idea said just how desperate she was.
It wasn't that she needed this first time to be acrobatic, rock-her-world kind of sex. She just wanted her Master's cock deep inside her, his body pressing her down, his arms around her. She needed that link and connection as much as she needed air, and the more she thought about it, the scarcer the air seemed to be getting.
It didn't help that Des kept touching her, putting a possessive, stroking hand high on her thigh under the table. Or laughing at Marcus's and Rory's banter with his sexy timbre. Or getting that attentive look in his brown gaze as he listened to Elaine. She wondered if his frequent touches were a way of communicating his own urgency, but the difference between her and him was he fed off of denial, fueled by his sub's frustration. The only thing that might keep her from murdering him was that she couldn't have sex with a dead man. Though if she got any more sexually frustrated, her moral barometer might drop precipitously.
Des had shifted his hand to the back of her chair and was playing with her bra strap under her shirt when she was beaned by a biscuit.
"Hey, girl with the idiot dreamy look on her face," Marcus said. "Pay attention. Might as well be freaking newlyweds," he grumbled to Thomas. "When she's not looking at him, he's looking at her."
"Yeah, not like anyone else we know at this table," Les said, rolling her eyes at him and Thomas. She winked at Des. Though when not smiling she looked like the serious overachiever she was, Les was a pleasant girl with brown hair and hazel eyes like her mother's. She became even more animated when Daralyn, a family friend who'd lived with them for the past few years, was here, but Daralyn had a field trip with her community college this weekend. Something Julie was happy to hear because, though she loved being around Daralyn, the young woman was painfully shy and needed to be more socialized.
Marcus sent Les a mock frown. "I have a very important something to tell you both," he said to Julie. "I acquired the information at great personal cost."
"You had to give up hair mousse for a week?" Rory asked, wide-eyed.
"Shut up, crip, or I'll let the air out of your tires," Marcus advised.
Elaine tsked at their byplay. Yet Julie noticed the men were keeping the humor clean if tasteless so she didn't have to resort to outright admonishment.
"Spill. What's this valuable info?" Julie asked.
Marcus glanced at Thomas. He had his arm stretched behind Thomas's chair, body canted toward him, foot propped on the cross piece beneath. Unlike Des and Julie, they'd already been able to resume carnal relations, but from the hawk steadiness of Marcus's gaze, Julie suspected he didn't yet consider them caught up from the deficit. But when had Marcus and Thomas not been like that? Honest to God, she was going to have a meltdown if she couldn't have Des, or he could have her, two minutes ago.
Des was more than partly to blame, and not because of his attentiveness today. The man had used his Devil-cursed self-discipline to tie her up and do a repeat of that wonderful night several times, a scintillating reinforcement of the Dom and sub bond, as well as the other bonds between them. As much as she loved that, the aftermath had been even more precious. He'd held her so tightly, a quivering mass of "fuck it, I want to live" energy that broke the heart and made her love him all the more.
"I had to call Tyler," Marcus informed her.
She returned fully to the present with a mock dramatic gasp, putting her hand to her heart. "Oh my God, you're right. Thomas, how could you let him make such a terrible sacrifice?"
"I will dip your hair in rubber cement while you sleep," Marcus said.
"Enough," Elaine said, putting pecan pie on the table. "Tell them your news. I've been fairly bursting with it since Thomas told me last week."
"He's such a tattle tale." But Marcus relented, meeting Des's gaze. "There's a study going on right now. It puts pancreatic cells in this biomaterial that withstands immune system attack. When the cells are injected into you, the cells can maintain their ability to detect low blood sugar and produce insulin in response. What healthy pancreas are supposed to do. Encapsulated islet cell therapy, I think it's called." He glanced at Les, as if he'd confirmed some of the medical terms with her.
"Regardless, Jon will be able to explain it much better," Marcus added. "I understood every third word, but the important gist is there's a lot of optimism surrounding the study. It's ready for human trials."
Julie raised her brows. "How did you find tha
t out?"
